


Because the Night

by Lillies_roses



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Missing Scene, true love let’s be real here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 13:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillies_roses/pseuds/Lillies_roses
Summary: James and Harry return to their flat the night after James' poisoning and Mac's murder.Harry knows he has to be strong, has to find a way through his own fears, through James’ walls, through this awful night.  If they can make it through tonight in one piece, it'll be okay.





	Because the Night

**Author's Note:**

> They can't hurt you now  
Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now...  
Because the night belongs to lovers  
Because the night belongs to us  
\-- Because the Night, Patti Smith
> 
> I started this a while ago, but couldn’t get it to the point where I was completely happy with it. I decided to share it anyway, because… well, Jarry!

Harry walked a few steps behind James. The night held a residual chill from the recent winter. The air felt soft and fresh. Shoulders hunched, James’ coat swamped his thin body, and his hand shook slightly as he turned the key in the lock. Following him into the flat, Harry watched as James made his way into the kitchen. Without removing his coat, he took a tumbler from the cupboard, unstopping the whisky bottle that sat on the sideboard and pouring out the amber liquid until the glass was three-quarters full. Harry closed the door behind him gently. The click of the latch pulled James from his thoughts for the first time since they had left the hospital, and his eyes turned towards Harry.

“I’m sorry, I must have forgotten my manners in all the excitement. Do you want one?” Harry shook his head. “Good. More for me.” A tight smile pulled the at edges of James’ mouth, and he swallowed down the rest of the glass. He immediately poured another.

Harry watched James for a moment more, then walked cautiously towards him. Removing the glass from James’ hand, Harry let their fingers momentarially touch before taking a small sip and placing it back on the side. He looked up at James, his hand moving to lightly press into his shoulder. “It’s been a long day. I’ll run you a bath?” James glanced briefly at the drink and then back to Harry, his jaw tightening. He nodded stiffly.

Once in the bathroom Harry rolled up the sleeves of his suit, and turned the taps on fully. Moving onto his knees, he dipped his hand into the warm water, mixing it around the tub. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes, letting his emotions overwhelm him for just a moment. Only a few hours ago, he had been so close to losing James. He had thought that he had. Now James was the one who had lost someone, the long-nurtured hatred he held for his father further muddying the waters of grief. Harry had to be strong, had to find a way through his own fears, through James’ walls, through this awful night. He stood up and steadied himself against the wall, before returning to the living room.

James had sat back on the sofa, slumped into the cushions with eyes closed and empty glass in hand. The bottle of whisky had moved to the coffee table, containing visibly less liquid than when Harry had left the room. He moved to James’ side, and crouched down in front of him, gently placing a hand on his knee. James opened his eyes, rimmed red, bloodshot and tired. Harry moved his hand onto James’ cheek. “Come on, you.” He whispered.

James let Harry lead him to the bathroom, and begin to undress him, starting by gently slipping his overcoat from his shoulders. Once naked, James lowered himself into the water. Harry watched him carefully, not saying a word. His legs were too long for the bathtub, knees protruding out of the water as he submerged his head and appeared again, water dripping from his hair and down his face. When James was settled back into the warm water, eyes closed, Harry put the toilet seat down and finally sat. He closed his own eyes, leaning against the back of the loo. God, he was tired. Had he ever been this tired? Since that moment this morning, seeing James laid out limply on the bench, the emotions that flooded him then had not let up all day. Just as Harry’s head began to nod onto his chest, he heard James’ voice. It sounded unfamiliar, quiet and unsure.

“When I was 10, Mac took me to the zoo.” Harry opened his eyes, but he didn’t speak. James’ own eyes were still closed, his face pulled tight in a small frown. The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of water as James shifted in the bath. Then he continued. “It was my birthday. He had taken all the others on a trip there for their birthdays, and it was my turn. I was so scared. I was scared of the animals, and scared of him. In the end, the only thing I could handle was the petting zoo. Not even the goats, I stayed by the rabbits.” James’ voice faltered. Harry slid deliberately from the loo, and crossed his legs on the floor. He reached out and placed his hand over James’ where it rested on the side of the bath. James opened his eyes, but didn’t look at Harry. Instead he focused his gaze on their hands, Harry’s covering his own, his thumb rubbing steadily across his wrist. “Mac was so angry. He said that there was no point in him being there if I was going to be so cowardly, so ungrateful. He left. He left me there alone. I was so scared, I didn’t know if he was going to come back, didn’t know how I would get home. All I wanted was my dad. I wanted him to come back and pick me up and hug me and tell me that I was safe.” Droplets of bath water still clung to James’ cheeks, disguising the tears that Harry could hear in his voice as he persisted with his recollections. “He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. After a few hours he found me in the exact same position. I’d been too frightened to tell any of the staff what had happened. When we got home that evening, he taught me a lesson about exhibiting gratitude.” James spat, his eyes finally meeting Harry’s. “My real birthday present that year was a cracked rib.”

  
  


When the bath began to go cold, Harry helped James out and wrapped him in his robe. Once the door to their room was closed, they sat side by side on the bed, and James leaned forwards, his head in his hands. Harry’s own hand moved to his back, rubbing slowly up and down. What he wouldn’t do to take away the pain that James was feeling then, the confusion. As much as he loved him, how could he get him through this? Losing his father and his tormentor all at once. The man he had wanted so desperately to love, who he had no choice but to hate. Harry could barely wrap his own head around it, how could he possibly help James? He moved his hand higher, running his fingers through James’ short hair. James uncovered his face, and turned to him. He looked so tired and lost.

Harry took James’ face in his hands, and kissed him. If only briefly, he knew he could take James out of his own head, take his mind away from the events of the day. He had to try. He slipped one hand inside James’ robe, his arm curling around his side and dragging down his back. A small sound escaped from the back of James’ throat as Harry clutched at his bare skin.

James lay back then, pulling Harry gently with him, careful not to trap his hand under his weight. His open robe and wide eyes made him appear more vulnerable than Harry could recall ever seeing him. Briefly drawing back, Harry undressed quickly and lay down beside James, pulling his body close against him. His hands searched for skin, touching every little bit he could find. Tonight he would take the lead.

They moved together, lost in the darkness, until the sound of the front door interrupted the refuge they had taken in each other. Voices, hushed but audible, echoed through the flat. Marnie and Juliet. Harry stalled his movements, but didn’t take his eyes from James. Hot breath mingling in the space between their lips, their gazes didn’t flicker, didn’t falter. On hearing muted goodnights and shutting doors, Harry began to move again, slower and more deliberately than before, until they found release at exactly the same time.

Laying on their sides, Harry still could not drag his gaze from James’. James ran his hand down Harry’s side, and shuffled in closer to him. Harry felt his breath return to normal, a bead of sweat rolling down his back and meeting the damp sheets. After a while, he gently guided James onto his back, and rested his head against his chest. He could feel James’ heart slowing back into the familiar rhythm.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He murmured. His fingers gently touched James’ chest over his heart, the index unconsciously making tiny movements to match its beats.

“I know… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re all I have.” Harry paused. That wasn’t right. “You’re all I want.” He rectified. 

“I’m here.” James’ hold on Harry tightened, as though to prove the truth of his words.

“I know… it’s just that after everything that’s happened, Ste, Romeo, Cindy and your dad, it’s not enough time. It’s not…” Harry’s voice caught. He cleared his throat, determined to continue, not to let his emotions overcome him. Determined to make James’ see how deep his feelings went after all this time.

“People leave.” He began again, more softly. “I make them leave. My mum… after I came here, she just kind of gave up on me. Dad tries his best to love me, but I make it hard, I know I do.”

“Harry, that’s not…”

“Please, just let me say this.” Harry persited, his voice wobbling. “Dad’s left me on my own so many times and I get why, I do, but it’s still… I dunno.” Harry shook his head gently, tears dislodging and falling damply onto James’ skin. “Ste never looked at me the same way after Amy. After I was working on the streets. I disappoint everyone, but it’s never been like that with you. You’re always there. I don’t want that to change.” Harry pushed himself up so that he could look at James’ face. His eyebrows were knitted together in concern, his lips puckered. “I meant what I said when I called you this morning. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I never want to not have you here.” Harry knew he was working himself up, but he pushed on, releasing all the emotion that he had held in throughout the day. “I just love you so much.”

Harry knew that James wasn’t always comfortable talking about his feelings. After years of avoidance and concealment, believing it made him stronger, he still sometimes found it hard to articulate his love. But as he clung to Harry, pulling him closer to him and pressing a kiss hard into his hairline, Harry knew exactly what he wasn’t saying.

  
  


Still wrapped in James’ arms, Harry suddenly felt his stomach contract and rumble. He looked over to the clock. Close to 3am. In the chaos of the day, neither of them had eaten since breakfast.

“God, I’m ravenous!” Harry said squeezing James’ hand before pushing his arm from around him and sitting up. “Can’t remember ever not eating for this long. I’m gonna waste away. Do you want anything?”

“I’m not hungry.” James mumbled without opening his eyes.

Harry pulled on his robe and crept quietly into the kitchen, aware of the other sleeping residents. He put two tea bags into a pot, and retrieved two mugs from the cupboard. After boiling and pouring the kettle, he put enough bread for the two of them into the toaster. Arranging plates and mugs onto a tray, he spread the toast - peanut butter for himself and honey for James - and added a spoon of sugar into his own teacup. Returning to their room, Harry placed the tray on the bed and switched on the bedside lamp. James was sitting up, leaning against a wall of pillows and holding a book in his hands. Harry could see from his static gaze that he wasn’t taking it in. He slipped into the bed next to James, crossing his legs and letting his knee touch against James’ thigh.

Harry tried to sip his tea, burning the tip of his tongue before putting it back and biting into the toast.

“Mum used to make this for me when I was poorly or feeling sad. Tea and toast solves everything, she always said.” James reached out and stroked his hand up Harry’s back. Harry knew he didn’t talk about his mother very much. He’d probably mentioned her more tonight than in all the time he’d been with James. “Always made me feel a bit better.” James reached over Harry’s lap, and took a piece of toast from the tray. He rested his other hand on Harry’s knee. After a few moments of eating in silence, James spoke again.

“My mother would take me to buy a new book when I was experiencing… well, she’d call them my ‘dark moods’. I never told her what really caused them. She loved Mac so much, I couldn’t make her choose. I didn’t know what she  _ would _ choose, so I never asked her to. I read the books and kept my mouth shut. Mac always won.”

“He didn’t win.” Harry tried to reassure James with his touch, his fingers stroking over the back of his hand. “He died alone, and look at you.” James gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean it. You’re worth so much more than that man.”

“I could say the same about you and your father.”

“And you do. Often.”

James laughed at that, a real laugh, and Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. If James could make it through tonight in one piece, it’d be okay.

  
  


The night felt quiet and still. Harry could feel his breath slow as sleep overcame him, his limbs becoming heavier and sinking into the soft mattress. 

“I don’t want to lose you either.” James’ voice came quietly through the darkness, pulling Harry back from the brink. He rolled over, suppressing a groan and pushing himself onto his elbow, resting his head on his hand as he looked at James. James eyes were trained on the ceiling, following the faint shadows cast by the streetlights beyond the window.

“All my life, I’ve come second. To my family, my mother. Mac was always first. With John-Paul I was second to Ste. I was your second choice too for a long time.”

“That’s not true. You were never my second choice. I was just… scared.”

“I’m still scared.” In the darkness, Harry could make out James’ profile as it turned towards him. His breath caught momentarily. The great James Nightingale was admitting to being afraid of something, here and now. He reached out and touched James’ cheek.

“I’m scared he’s right. Mac. Maybe I am pathetic. Unlovable. How long will it be until  _ you _ realise it and…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Harry interrupted. “I promise.” He moved his hand down onto James’, which lay across his own stomach, and linked their little fingers together. “I  _ know _ you.” He whispered. James smiled.

Harry lay back down, wrapping an arm across James’ waist. He placed his hand over James’ heart, wanting to feel that heartbeat again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We’ll make it through all of this. You and me. Then we’ll have this place to ourselves. I’ll go back to uni. You can expand your firm, hire some people to help out, maybe have a bit more free time.”

James let out a short laugh, “And what would I do with more free time exactly?”

“We’ll find some way to fill it.” Harry gently kissed the dip at the base of James’ throat. “Maybe we could get somewhere else. Somewhere bigger, that’s both of ours?”

“Move out of Hollyoaks? Start again?” James whispered, his hand stroking the small of Harry’s back.

They didn’t often talk about the future, each so recently burned by the past. But alone here in the darkness, it all seemed possible. Losses that Harry had long ago resigned himself to somehow seemed within reach. After everything that had been thrown at him and James, here they were. Still holding onto each other. Sheltering each other. How could they fail?

“Sounds like a plan.”

Light began to creep in through the small gap between the curtains, falling across the bed, across their bodies so close together. “I can’t believe it’s nearly morning.” James sighed. Harry pressed his hand against him, pushing him further into the sheets and trying to halt the approaching end of the night. “There’s going to be so much to do today. The body, I’ll have to decide what to do with that. Mother won’t be able to cope with it. And then there’s Romeo, all of this nonsense with the police.” Harry felt James’ body tense beneath him, his hands moving up to his eyes and rubbing them roughly.

“I’ll be with you.” Harry murmured, “You’re not on your own anymore. You don’t always have to be the strong one. Not with me.”

The alarm next the the bed clicked, and the sound of Radio 3’s morning show disturbed the peace of the dawn, announcing the arrival of 6.am. James groaned. “I’d better get up.”

“Don’t. Not yet. Just hold me a little bit longer.” James looked at Harry, and lay his head back against the pillow. He held Harry more firmly against him.

“Alright, just a little longer.” 

  
  



End file.
